


Birthday Sex

by squirrelfish



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Oral Sex, PWP, Riding Crops, Sex Toys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-06
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 10:47:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1425697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squirrelfish/pseuds/squirrelfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Ariadne wakes up on her 26th birthday with her hands tied to the headboard of her bed."</p><p>It's porn.  Yep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Sex

**Author's Note:**

> I just sorta sat and watched in amazement as this fic mutated into being. This is what happens when I'm supposed to be writing something else x)

Ariadne wakes up on her 26th birthday with her hands tied to the headboard of her bed. It might have been worrisome, except she recognizes the red checkered tie around her wrists as Arthur’s. They’ve played this game before. She impishly spends the next ten minutes trying to escape, waving around her legs, trying to reach the tie with her feet, biting at it, squirming about. She’s wearing a tie-dye t-shit and black underwear, and that’s it.

Then Arthur walks into the bedroom, in dress shirt and waistcoat and tie and black pants and even leather shoes that thump softly on the carpet. His hair is pomaded back, curling ever so slightly at the nape of his neck, and he’s buttoning his sleeve as he approaches the bed. This is a handful, considering he’s also carrying a black briefcase.

“I see you’ve found your birthday present,” he says, resting the briefcase on the foot of the bed. She kicks at him and he catches her ankle, a swift, sharp smile momentarily breaking his character. Then he’s all cool again. “Would you like to continue?” he asks.

She smiles into her arm. “The safeword is red,” she says. “Yellow means slow down.”

“That’s hardly creative, Ariadne,” he tuts, but then he places a plurality of kisses across Ariadne’s toes. It tickles her and also says that he’s accepted the message loud and clear.

She snatches her food out of his grasp with another kicking motion, grinning at him, but he’s presumably all business. He opens the briefcase slowly and puts on a show of raising an eyebrow at the contents. “Oh what have we here?” he says. Arthur has a sense of humor about these things. She laughs at him. 

The way the briefcase is situated, the lid hides the contents from her view. Therefore, it comes as a slight surprise when he takes out a small, pink bullet vibrator and a remote. She’s never seen it before, so it must be new. For her birthday.

She smiles coyly at him and tries to be as sexy as possible given the circumstances. It seems impossible next to Arthur looking so sharp and competent (and she’s seen him be professional and deadly like this too), the muscles of his forearms pulling the cloth of his sleeve as he shifts, the waistcoat hugging his lithe frame. She wants to put her hand in the small of his back and kiss him—or be kissed by him. It’s a bit of ego deflation, to be so turned on by somebody else, but the darkness hiding in his eyes tells another story. Behind the cool façade and wry humor, Arthur is just as anxious for this as she is.

He comes to stand at the side of the bed, the little bullet between his thumb and forefinger, the remote in his opposite hand. He places both beside Ariadne’s pillow and runs his hands down her sides, resting one knee on the side of the bed so he can lean over her. Ariadne gives him a good struggle. She wriggles and kicks at him and even lands a good knee-to-the-chest on accident, but then he grabs both of her thighs near the knee, his grip hard and efficient, and easily parts her legs. He slides the bullet just inside her underwear, pressed against the lips of her vagina innocuously, amidst the curls of her hair. The cool, plastic presence makes her stomach lurch with excitement at what’s to come. He smiles at her innocently.

“That’s it?” she asks, all challenge.

He leans back and sits halfway on the bed beside her, taking the remote in hand. “I thought we could go over logistics first,” he says coolly. He turns the vibrator on to its lowest setting and the tiny vibrations hum against Ariadne, tightening that hunger in her gut, making her palms tingle with lust, but hardly giving her much of anything else.

“I masturbated the other day thinking about you,” Arthur says casually, as if he’s talking about leftover details on a job. “I thought about you sucking me off, and I wondered how it must feel to be choking on my cock.”

Arthur doesn’t talk like this. The surprise of it—and most surprisingly how hot it is to have such a crisp and polished-looking man talk to her like this—makes Ariadne’s throat go dry. Nevertheless, she teasingly says, “And?”

Arthur glances at her, eyes crinkling. “I put my fingers in my mouth and sucked on them. I wondered, now, how would it feel to have a cock in my mouth and also inside of me?”

Ariadne swallows. Well.

“I wondered, how would Ariadne feel if she had a cock filling her mouth—“ his finger hooks under her t-shit—“and filling her hole”—he trails the shirt slowly up Ariadne’s stomach, up over the curve of her breasts, catching on her nipples—“But that’s imprecise language, isn’t it? You have two holes”--until the shirt is bunched along her clavicle. “What if we also stretched that sweet little ass of yours? How would it feel to be that full, I wondered?” He thumbed the remote, almost as a second thought, and the hum in Ariadne’s underwear increased just a tiny amount, not quite enough to be enough, but damn was she aware of it.

“I really wanted to fuck you around then,” Arthur continues. “To fill you up. But just fucking you wouldn’t be enough. No, not for Ariadne.”

He kneads one of her breasts in his palm, gentle until he pinches her nipple. The sharp surprise makes Ariadne go “hey!” and he gives her inner thigh a slap.

“I think you’ve talked back quite enough,” he says, smiling.

She grins, trying to quell the hammering of her heart. “Make me,” she says.

He raises the vibrator by two settings, and yes, that shuts her up for a moment, but not nearly as efficiently as the two fingers he hooks into her mouth.

“Suck them like they’re my cock,” he orders, and when her legs instinctively try to come together, he slaps her thigh again, stinging.

She wraps her lips around his fingers and sucks, thinking of his cock. The fingers aren’t anywhere near satisfying in comparison, even as they slide along her tongue and caress the roof of her mouth. She craves that fuller feeling, that ache, that near-choking sensation that brings water to her eyes and heat to her stomach. The vibration of the bullet in her panties has gotten her wet enough that the vibrator is starting to slide between her lips, tantalizingly close to her clit. Waves of pleasure twist through her, heightened when Arthur slaps her thigh again and the pain swirls in with the lust and makes her gasp around his fingers. The abrupt intact of breath actually does make her choke on them momentarily, and he removes them, carrying along a trail of spit that clings to her bottom lip.

Arthur examines his wet fingers, then as if satisfied, uses them to tweak Ariadne’s nipple, wetly and slippingly. The pleasure-pain makes her groan, head falling back, pelvis arching languidly into the air.

“Arthur, you fucker,” she says happily.

He slaps her thigh in punishment, exactly what she wanted. “What did you say?” he asks.

“I said you’re a fucker.”

Another slap, harder.

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“I said you’re such a bad man, Arthur.”

Slap. 

“I’d hardly go that far.”

The inside of her thigh has flushed to a stinging pink. Her skin has always been sensitive. He caresses the burning area briefly, then suddenly stands, leaving her thigh and her nipple alone. For a panicky moment Ariadne thinks he’ll leave her here, tied up and horny with a vibrator that just isn’t enough stuck in her panties, but then he’s back at the briefcase.

This time he removes a little black riding crop.

“A very, very bad man,” Ariadne says.

Arthur comes to her side again, sliding the flat head of the crop along her leg, resting it against her abused thigh. He goes further, taps lightly against her panties, and she hisses because that pushes the vibrator just enough to touch the tip of her clit and ohgod that’s really great. There should be more of that. But seeing her pleasure, Arthur immediately takes the crop away, and she squirms, letting out a frustrated noise.

He quiets her by smacking her breast with the crop, not hard but definitely enough to sting and leave a red spot. He taps lightly toward her nipple, and then taps directly on it. The sensitive skin is immediately sore and stinging but in such a way that sends waves of need into the pit of Ariadne’s belly. She writhes against her bindings, twitching away from the slaps and yet arching into them at the same time. He gives her breast a harder, loud smack and she cries out, breathless. The vibrations in her pussy have half numbed her but coupled with the pain, she feels a hard aching to be filled, to have cocks in both her holes like Arthur had described.

“I realize I never finished my story,” Arthur says, moving to the other breast with a sharp smack and a moan from Ariadne. “Where was I? I was imagining you full, with three big cocks inside you.” Smack. “And I thought about them cumming inside of you, filling you up even more.” Smack smack smack. “What if I came inside of you Ariadne?”

He moves from her breasts back to her inner thighs, and the proximity to her crotch has her knees instinctively squirming, trying to come together, but he holds her legs apart with his free hand.

“Do you want my cum to fill you up? I bet you do, you beautiful slut.” He taps her underwear again, holds the edge of the crop there, pressing, and the vibrations shudder straight through her clit, building and building until she’s close to coming.

“Arthur please,” she gasps. The pleasure keeps building and building with each new wave that courses through her, and she’s close, so close.

He removes the crop and smacks her thigh, bringing her right back down again with a frustrated cry.

“I’d like to try out my little fantasy if you don’t mind,” he says, and he goes to place the crop officiously back in the briefcase (but not before stopping by the vibrator’s remote at the pillow and turning it up to its most intense setting).

Next he comes up with a handful of steel dildos in varying sizes. The first two she’d guess are about five inches apiece. The third one is easily eight. She almost laughs at the picture of Arthur all waistcoat-pristine with a handful of dildos, but she’s a bit too horny to come up with a proper snide remark. It’s fogging up her brain.

He lays out the vibrators in a neat little line and continues to rummage in the briefcase, removing a tub of lube and a handtowel, which he sneaks under Ariadne’s bum. “It’s about time those come off,” he says, and slowly removes her panties. The bullet falls wetly onto the towel and Ariadne is left literally quivering. He smiles, and leans forward to give her pussy a sweet little kiss. It’s rather the sharp contrast to the flogging that has her so flushed all over.

She lets out a high whine—she needs to be filled right this second—and he rubs her stomach placatingly.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, voice low and rumbling. He takes one of the five inch dildos and brings it to her mouth. Instinctively she flicks out her tongue to lick it. It’s warm—trust Arthur to take the time to warm them up beforehand.

“Suck it,” he orders, and he presses it into her mouth, deep, just far enough that she gags slightly and has to rearrange her tongue and work her throat muscles to get somewhere near comfortable. The girth of it stretches her lips and she groans around it, sucking squelchingly, and she tries to meet Arthur’s eyes but he’s already intent between her legs. He puts one of her legs over his shoulder and rubs a hand down her abused thigh. He bypasses her pussy to circle her puckered pink asshole with his thumb, making her clench up reflexively.

She wants to say something cocky, but she’s too busy trying to keep the dildo in her mouth, trying to suck it satisfyingly. Meanwhile she feels the sharp cold of the lube as Arthur pours it over her ass, luxuriantly letting it pool and drip down her cheeks. He presses a thick finger against her hole, tickling maddeningly, then presses all the way inside in one long, slow push. Her pussy is quivering with need, and she feels a long string of fluid drip from her, falling down over Arthur’s hands. Arthur pushes in a second finger and starts a rhythm that has her rolling her body and pulling at her restraints. Her pussy needs attention right now.

But Arthur takes his sweet time preparing her ass, until he’s pressing the round head of the other five inch steel cock into her slowly. It burns and stretches her, it’s bigger than what she’s used to taking, but she’s so horny right now, she doesn’t even care. She just needs as much stimulation as she can get. She wants to buck her hips but Arthur has her held firmly in place as he presses all five inches deep inside of her.

She pants through her nose, having to hold the dildo between her teeth to keep from dropping it. When Arthur lets her go she bobs her hips pleadingly, letting out muffled whines. She knows it’s finally time for her pussy to get attention again, and the anticipation has her legs shaking.

He picks up the largest dildo and takes his sweet time slathering it in lube. It’s not even necessary dammit, she’s wet enough to take just about anything, but he obviously relishes teasing her.

“Are you ready?” he asks innocently, and she makes a sound that clearly means ‘I hate you’ but only makes him smile.

He presses the head of the eight inch dildo against the lips of her vagina, rubbing up and down and her stomach is shaking. Her ass is quivering and she can feel the entire length of the dildo already inside of her. She almost wants to cry. He needs to put it in right now dammit.

And then he does.

Slowly but without breaks he presses all eight inches into her and she’s screaming with how good it feels, how she can feel both of the steel cocks inside of her touching one another through her insides. She’s never been this full, and she chokes and drops the dildo from her mouth, having to take a deep breath just to handle the need that’s making her knees shake uncontrollably. Just thinking about how full she is makes her clit throb, and then Arthur leans forward and takes her clit between his lips.

She shouts as he sucks, tongue lapping delicately, and the pressure of orgasm is mounting within her, and the two steel cocks are so deep and she can feel all of them as she quivers around them, feel them shifting ever so slightly as her insides convulse, and then Arthur sucks long and hard and she’s cumming with a scream, knees bucking inward convulsively, stomach arching off the bed, throat hoarse and sore from sucking steel cock and shouting so harshly.

But Arthur doesn’t stop there. He keeps on sucking, and she writhes, too sensitive from her orgasm, but he keeps on going. He takes the eight-inch dildo between thumb and forefinger and starts fucking her with it, and it’s all too much. Her clit is burning and throbbing and oversensitized, and she can feel the dildo in her pussy rubbing against the dildo in her ass, and she’s actually crying as Arthur makes her come again.

And again.

And again.

She’s lost count of how many times she’s orgasmed when Arthur finally sits back from her, his lips wet and glistening before he wipes them on his pristine sleeve—and damn, that might be the hottest thing she’s ever seen. He gives her a wicked grin and finally removes the dildos from her and lets her legs fall limp as noodles to the bed. She’s shaky and sweaty and stinks of sex, and this might be the best birthday ever.

When Arthur stands, she sees that he has quite the noticeable erection tenting his dress pants. She’s breathless and spent, but she still has it in her to say, “Aren’t we going to take care of that?”

He smiles at her as he comes up to finally untie her sore wrists. “Let’s save it for my birthday,” he says, and when her arms are free she wraps them around him and holds tight.


End file.
